Amunet: The Hidden One
by Irish Yasha
Summary: What's a young prince to do when his father gives him a new slave? The all-mighty Mana knows! AtemxOC
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: The Dancer

"Come on, move it!"

The slave driver yanked on the chain that connected all the slaves together. It created a domino effect, causing the slaves to bump into each other. The sun beat down on their backs, fresh whip marks criss-crossing in gruesome patterns. Their feet were torn and bloody, and their wrists were chaffing from their shackles. Blood-shot eyes gazed listlessly at the sand rising into their faces. None of them spoke—their tongues were coated in a thick layer of dust.

At the end of the chain, the youngest, newest slave staggered behind the rest. Her dress had turned brown from the sand, sweat, and a lack of washing. Like the other slaves, she wore no shoes and her hands hung limply before her. They, the slave traders, were taking them all to the palace. No surprise there. However, she didn't see why they wanted her. Normally, under these circumstances, they would have killed her. After all, she was too weak to make it all the way to the palace, none of the other slaves would have been willing to help her, and she had been caught stealing water before they had taken her—she was a thief, the last thing they should want. When she thought about it, for her brain rarely registered anything as of late, she realized that she didn't even look like a normal Egyptian. Her skin was paler and more delicate looking. Her hair, when let down, fell in long blonde waves well past her feet. Eyes that looked to be light brown or hazel at first, revealed a ring of forest green around the outer edge of her iris. Her own parents had scorned her…so why had these slave traders wanted her?

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"Come on, let's go!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," the young prince replied. Mahaado was always so impatient when it came to court meetings, it was scary. Mana had been allowed to tag along to this particular meeting and she skipped happily alongside him. _Am I the only one who doesn't enjoy court meetings?_ Today, his father said he had a surprise for him. The prince pushed his blonde bangs back from his sweaty forehead. They fell right back into place, shielding his eyes from the scorching sun. The majority of his hair was black, but the tips of it was red. He couldn't see why the others wore their hair straight down their backs. Whenever he tried it, he began to get…overheated. And keeping it up off his back felt so nice compared to having it stick all over his neck and shoulders, which just created more heat.

As he, Mana, and Mahaado entered the throne room, all three of them understood why the pharaoh had said today was special—new slaves.

Another thing the young prince did not understand. The other nobles and court officials and higher-ups saw new slaves as new goods to be ogled. While he did understand that everyone had their place, he saw no reason to humiliate the slaves by treating them as nothing more than mere objects. After all, objects could not do things that slaves, which were people, could.

The young prince took his place by his father's side as Pharaoh Akunamonon began to speak with the slave traders.

"Tell me, Traders, do you happen to have any that would be around the age of my son?" he asked.

The traders replied, "We have only one, but she would not be able to do any hard labor. The most she would be good for is a concubine's work." The traders snickered amongst themselves. They had not touched her, but the girl they spoke of was a bit skittish, and extremely fun to tease.

"Let me see this girl," the pharaoh demanded.

Mana watched on as they brought a girl around her age, whose face was currently covered by the hood of her cloak, to the front. They kept her hands bound as they pulled back her hood, revealing her face. Mana let out a quiet gasp that no one but Mahaado heard. The girl was certainly pretty, but her eyes looked so dead. Her posture screamed that she was ragged and weary, though the girl herself remained silent.

Pharaoh Akunamonon turned to his son, "Atem, what do you think?"

The young prince, Atem, didn't want to say anything. He could see her blonde hair, her oddly colored eyes; everyone could. If he said he didn't want her, she would surely be killed once the traders left. They must have known that no one except for the pharaoh would have seen her as some kind of exotic beauty, and they wanted every slave they could find. Then again, if he said he _did_ want her, she would be made his concubine. Maybe not _now_, but in the years to come when he took over as pharaoh. Not to be misunderstood, he loved girls as much as the next boy his age, but he wasn't quite as…how had Mahaado put it? Ah, yes, _horny_…as the others. He had responsibilities others his age didn't, after all. As he sat there brooding, the rest of the court waited with baited breath.

_That fool's taking too long._ Mana knew he had to make a decision fast, otherwise, his father would make it for him…and it wouldn't be pretty. So she did the only thing she could to get the pharaoh's attention.

"Um, excuse me?" Her hand shot up in the air as all eyes turned toward her. She began to wave it around frantically, "I have a suggestion."

Mahaado sighed. _I told her she could come if she kept her mouth shut. But, of course, why would she listen to me?_

The pharaoh had to suppress a chuckle at the young girl's antics, "Yes, Mana, you may speak."

"Okay, so it's really obvious that Prince Atem wants to keep her, right?" She continued before he could answer. "Well, I was thinking that, most likely, he's over thinking this. Cause you know how he is, concerned with the future of the kingdom and all. Honestly, he should know he's allowed to be a _little_ selfish at least once in his lif—"

Mahaado chose now to interrupt, "Your _point_, Mana."

"Oh! Right," she continued, "well, anyway, so I was thinking, he could keep her, but as something other than a concubine…like a dancer or something…until he figures out what he wants to do with her." Mana beamed at Atem and the pharaoh, proud of her idea. After all, she'd just been making up as she went along.

Pharaoh Akunamonon looked at his son, "That sounds reasonable enough. What do you say, my son?"

Atem looked on, bewildered. He had been lost in his head, trying to figure out what he should do and had no clue as to what was going on. Looking at Mana, he saw her beaming. _Oh, Ra, what did she do this time?_ Mahaado was of no help either, seeing as he simply nodded.

"Yes, Father, that sounds…reasonable."

"Then it is decided! Mana, since it was your idea, would be so kind as to take the girl to her new room in the slave quarters?"

Mana skipped happily over to the girl, determined to be her friend. Taking her hand, she took off in the other direction, "Come on! You're gonna love it here!"

As she skipped out, dragging the girl with her, the pharaoh rethought his decision, "Mahaado, would you be so kind as to make sure Mana doesn't hide the girl in her room?"

Mahaado let out another sigh. He should have thought of that…she was his pupil and he should be used to her antics. "Yes, Pharaoh," he replied and followed after the two girls.

Atem looked over at Shimon.

"What in the name of Osiris just happened?"

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The older women gathered around Mana.

"Who's the new girl?" one asked.

"Where's she from?" asked another.

"What's she doing here?" one more asked.

Mana held up her hand to quiet them. "Well this is…um, I don't know her name. And she's from…somewhere towards the…west? I don't know that, either. And she's here to be a new dancer!" she finished excitedly.

The other women sweat-dropped. They turned as one towards the girl standing quietly in the doorway. She began to back away as they began to stalk towards her. One did not move—the eldest of them all. Instead, she cried out in a voice that was slightly hoarse with old age, but as strong as it had been in her glory days, "Tell me, girl. My name is Neferet, what is yours?"

All eyes turned towards the girl. She answered in the quietest voice they had ever heard, "I do not have a name."

"Well, then, where are you from?" Neferet asked.

"I do not know. Somewhere in the west, I think."

"…Do your parents know you are now a slave?"

"If they do, they do not care."

The women all gasped. "They don't care? How could they not care that their daughter is now a slave?"

The girl looked at them all with confusion in her eyes, "…should they?"

All at once, the women assembled around her, showering her with affection. "It's alright, little one," they crooned, "we'll take care of you."

Mana nodded happily and skipped outside to find Mahaado. Atem was there waiting with him as well. She gasped, "Atem! You gotta do something! Stay right there! Mahaado, can you make sure he doesn't go anywhere?" Before either man could answer, she ran back inside. She soon came back out, dragging the girl with her. The older women swarmed around them, waiting for Atem's verdict. He could tell by the expectant looks on their faces that he was about to make and important decision. Even old Neferet had come out to watch.

Pushing the girl in front of his face, Mana said impatiently, "Okay, Atem, do your prince-y thing."

Atem blinked once.

Twice.

Three times.

"Um, what thing?"

"She doesn't have a name, my prince!" one of the women cried in horror.

"Please give her one!" cried another.

"The poor little dear needs a name!" one more cried.

Pharaoh Akunamonon appeared behind him, "Go on, son, give her a name. After all, we can't keep calling her 'the girl' or 'slave'."

Atem blinked once.

Twice.

Three times.

Oooooooh, he knew what his father was doing. Usually, if a slave did not have a name, the pharaoh was the only one who could give them one. So _why_ was his father letting him name the girl? Simple. If Atem was the one who named her, in everyone else's eyes, she would officially belong to him. _Kind of like a pet._ He inwardly cringed at that thought. But he didn't have a choice, everyone was waiting.

"Well, let's name her after some aspect about herself." _There, that should make things a little easier._

"All we know is that she's from some village in the west and that she's a new dancer," Mana replied.

Atem could feel a giant sweat-drop form on the back of his head, "So, no one knows…_anything_ about her?"

"Nope!" Mana chirped.

"Well then," the pharaoh spoke up, "the little one's just full of hidden secrets, isn't she?"

The other female slaves sighed in remorse. Their new little one might not be given a name after all. _Poor little one._

Atem brightened all of a sudden, "I've got it!" he exclaimed as he snapped his fingers, "How about 'Amunet'?"

The women looked about themselves, murmuring the name quietly—testing it's sound.

The girl looked shyly at Atem, and he heard her soft voice for the first time, " 'The hidden one'?"

Mana noticed the slight blush on Atem's face. _I knew he wouldn't be able to _not_ love that sweet voice of hers._

"Y-yes," Atem replied.

"Wonderful!" cried the pharaoh. "Now then, ladies, will you clean her up? She needs to begin learning right away."

"Yes, Pharaoh!" they replied happily. Soon, she was dragged off to the servants' bathing quarters.

"A well picked name, Prince Atem," Mahaado said.

"Yeah, see? That wasn't so hard, was it? I think you're gonna like Amunet. The other ladies love her, and you know how hard it is to break them," Mana giggled.

Atem smiled at Mana, "Well then, I guess she's a special one, isn't she? Amunet…" he tested the name himself. "I think I like it."

Mana giggled. "You mean you didn't even think about it?"

Atem blushed, "Not really."

Mahaado smiled at the two younger ones. _I have a feeling things are going to be slightly more interesting around here. I suppose we shall see, Amunet the Dancer._


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: (whoops! Forgot it in chp1!) I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! If I did, guns would not be invisible. I don't own Granuaile's Dance either.**

However, I do own Amunet (yay! Ownership)

Chapter Two: Granuaile's Dance

Two months had passed. Everyone was warming up to Amunet, though many wished she would speak a bit louder. They had found that if anyone tried to make her speak "too loudly", she would shy away and not speak at all. But she was a sweet girl. She did her best to help where she could, even if she couldn't do much. Even though she was considered a dancer, she rarely danced. She couldn't even breathe in front of a crowd, let alone dance. But Mana had noticed that if Amunet was by herself (or at least thought she was), she would sing. Beautifully. Often, at dinnertime, Mana had set up Amunet behind a screen, never telling her that the nobles could hear her.

Other nobles and court officials were beginning to come more often, to hear her sing. She wasn't the best. Or the loudest. Or the most angelic. But still, something about it was beautiful.

One nobleman's daughter, however, did not appreciate the attention this _slave_ was taking from her. The daughter, Garnet, saw that it was time this _dancer_ danced.

"Prince Atem, why does your dancer not…well, dance?"

"Because, I'd much rather hear her sing," he replied.

"But she is a dancer, is she not? Shouldn't she dance?"

_I don't even know if she _knows_ any dances._ "Mana," he called, "does Amunet know any dances?"

Mana began to twiddle her thumbs, "Uh, well, she does know, um, one…dance…kinda."

Garnet pushed towards this knew opening, "Well then, let's see it. I for one want to see your new dancer dance."

_Craaaaaap._ Mana hastily made her way to the curtain to warn Amunet.

Amunet stopped singing when she heard a song begin to play. She frowned slightly, the musicians shouldn't be playing unless the dancer's were about to perform. But who was there to perform _for_? The curtain was pulled away, revealing Mana rushing towards Amunet with officials and nobles sitting and eating and _staring_ behind her.

Mana skidded to a halt beside Amunet, grabbing her arm and whispering urgently, "You might wanna dance now."

"Wha?" she cried as Mana hauled her to her feet.

"Just pretend they aren't there!" Mana exclaimed as she skipped off the platform.

Amunet reached after her, "But, Mana—! What…wait…what should I…?"

As the music kept playing, she closed her eyes. _Just pretend they aren't there. Just pretend they aren't there. Just pretend they aren't there._ She began to focus on the music. It reminded her of the sea. She had seen it once. Undulating and waving, swelling and flowing. Her body began to follow the motion she had set in her head. Undulating and waving, swelling and flowing. Suddenly, she began to dream. She was a pirate. A pirate queen. She answered to no one. The entire sea was at her command. Her moves became sharper. They gained purpose. She commanded the music, as well as the sea.

_She commanded the sea to flow to the east._

She commanded her body to flow to the west.

_The waves reached above her head._

Her arms moved back down in an arc.

_The ship carried her far out to sea._

Her feet carried her to the center of the platform.

Suddenly the music began to speed up. Amunet turned toward the musicians. She had heard this song before, but not this part. What was she supposed to do?

"What's going on?" Atem cried.

"Oh, come now, Prince Atem," one nobleman said appeasingly, "What's the harm in having a little fun?"

"A little fun?" he demanded, "This ritual has not been used in centuries!"

Atem knew this song. The second part of the composition was part of an ancient ritual, one that had been banned as an official way to find a wife. It was a stupid ritual, almost animalistic. The music would speed up and the dancer had seconds to run. The first man to catch her "won" her as his wife.

The music crescendoed, and the younger men of the court sprang from their seats.

"Run, Amunet!" Mana cried.

She took off. The men chased after her.

Atem jumped from his own seat. Perhaps he could get his father to call this off. This wasn't supposed to happen. "Father!" he called, "stop this, please!"

"Now, now, Atem. Let the nobles have their fun. I'm certain they won't take this seriously."

_Won't take this seriously? Can he not see the lust in their eyes?_

Atem ran out the door, praying he could stop this madness.

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_Wh-what is this madness?_ Amunet cried in her head. First, she's asked to sing. Then she finds out she's been singing for nobles and court officials the whole time. Then she's asked to dance. Then she's told to run. What the hell was going on?

She tore down the halls of the palace, desperate to escape the lustful young men chasing after her. How did a dance lead to a race? Her best bet was to lead them outside, into the garden. All the slaves and servants knew of secret passages that led through it. They were the kind of passages that were impossible to find—unless one already knew where they were. Seeing an opening, she cut through to the garden.

She could hear the pounding footsteps of the men behind her. _Okay,_ she thought. _Take a right…here!_ And thus she followed the barely memorized pathways in and out of the garden, anxious to shake them off. Her frantic running continued for 15 minutes. Her legs were going to give out and her lungs were on fire. The blazing sun upon her back was not helping. She needed shade and water and she needed them desperately. She darted from the garden path towards and open door. She knew this door had a staircase hidden just inside of it, so she scampered to the left.

Following the winding stairs up to the top floor of the palace took its toll on Amunet. So much so that she could barely see where she was going.

_If I can just get around that corner up ahead, I'll be home free._

BAM!

Of course, she hadn't considered that someone might be coming around from the other side.

Whoever she had run into, she had fallen on top of him or her. Though, judging from the slight groans of pain, she was pretty certain it was a man. Using what was left of her strength, she hoisted her upper body off of him to see who she had knocked down.

…

_Please tell me this isn't Prince Atem._

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Atem reached up to rub his head. It was still a bit sore from where he hit it on the stone floor.

"Is everything alright, my son?" the pharaoh asked.

"Oh, yes, Father."

"Good! Good. So I take it you understand the situation, then?"

Atem sighed, "Yes, Father. Amunet is to be my first wife."

Pharaoh Akunamonon smiled. His son was finally getting married. Over the years, the pharaoh had learned something—a good king could rule an empire by himself, but a great king knew that if he wanted a long and prosperous reign, he needed a wife to stand beside him.

But Atem's whole you-now-have-to-marry-the-slave-who-was-going-to-be-your-concubine predicament came about from that stupid dance. Akunamonon hadn't planned on taking it seriously at first. Even if one of the young noblemen _had_ caught Amunet, he wasn't going to just allow him to marry her. After all, Amunet was his son's slave. She belonged to him. It just so happened that Akunamonon was walking down the hall to find Atem when he saw both him and Amunet in a…*cough*suggestive*cough*…position. Being the pharaoh, he had to know to take advantage of certain situations.

Begin Flashback

"Ah! So you've caught her!" he cried. Amunet, the poor girl, gave him a look of utmost despair. She knew what he was getting at from that one sentence.

Atem had looked up from his position beneath her, "…Huh?"

"Well, the one to catch her wins her as his wife, remember?"

Atem's left eye began to twitch.

The pharaoh continued, "And it seems as though you've caught her—"

Was something wrong with Atem's eye? All that ticking didn't seem normal.

"So I guess that means you two are getting married."

To make things even better—for Akunamonon—Mana had chosen to walk by at that exact moment.

"Atem's going to marry Amunet?" She began to jump up and down, spin, clap, and squee all at the same time. "Oh my Ra! I have to go tell everybody!" and so she took off down the hall.

Atem reached after her, "No, Mana! Wait—!" but she was already out of sight.

"Well, then," the pharaoh said, "come on, you two. We must announce it to the court to make it official."

End flashback

Atem began to try one last escape tactic, "Father, shouldn't we consider how Amunet feels about this? I mean she is going from slave to princess…that's a big step—a whole new world. Don't you think she might be a bit…uneasy about all this?"

Akunamonon had seen this argument coming and had already prepared for it, "I've already spoken with Amunet. She understands that she will no longer be a slave. She says she's honored to be the first wife of the next pharaoh."

"But what about—?"

"I've arranged for her to have a tutor after the wedding," here, he chuckled, "and of course the wedding night—"

Pharaoh Akunamonon never knew an Egyptian could turn such a bright red.

"This tutor will teach her 'how to be a princess' and such things that she will likely need to know as the next First Queen of Egypt."

Atem could think of nothing else to go against his father's wishes. _I suppose it could be worse,_ he thought. Sighing, he asked, "Alright then…when is the wedding?"

The pharaoh smiled brightly, proud of himself for finally winning an argument against his son, "Tomorrow."

"Okay…wait, WHAT?"

**Yay! Chapter 2 is finished…kinda short, ain't it? I didn't really have much planned for this chapter, other than Amunet being "caught" by Atem, so I apologize if it seems a bit *cough*a lot*cough* rushed.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Yay! Another chappie! I'm feelin' a little light-headed today so please bear with me ^.^**

**Disclaimer: I do not own YuGiOh**

Chapter Three: Wedding Day

"You're a lot heavier than you look, you know that?" Mana asked as she all but dragged Atem to his room. "Why are you up so late anyway?"

Atem sighed, "I've been arguing with my father over the wedding date. I finally convinced him to at least wait a few more days."

Mana pouted. She wanted Atem and Amunet to get married right away. She wanted to be an auntie. "Does Amunet know about it?"

Atem paused a moment, "Crap." He turned to start moving in the other direction.

"And where are _you_ _two_ going?"

Both Mana and Atem turned towards the owner of the voice. Mana bowed respectfully at Neferet and Atem inclined his head. While she may have been considered a slave, old Neferet was someone of importance among the palace's inhabitants. Many went to the old woman for advice on everything—from gardening to child-birth. She seemed to know everything that went on inside the palace walls without being told and nothing happened _outside_ the walls that she couldn't find out about.

Mana straightened up to look at Atem. "We were going to tell Amunet that the day of the wedding has been moved," he answered, "now it won't be quite so soon."

"Mmm," the old woman hummed thoughtfully, "…and what of the wedding night? What do you plan to do then, my prince?"

Said prince went rigid at the question. He had managed to avoid the subject with his father, but he knew Neferet would not let him go until he answered her. "Well…I…h-hadn't really…thought about…that particular—"

"Oh, don't you lie to me boy," she accused. "I know you well enough. You may be more respectable than most boys you're age, but the fact still remains that you _are_ a boy." She took this moment to look at Mana, "Go to sleep, dear."

Mana didn't dare disobey, "Yes, ma'am." Atem watched despairingly as his only means of escape scurried away.

"Now," Neferet turned back towards the prince, "walk with me." She hooked her arm around Atem's and began to stroll down the hall that led to the garden.

"Not to be rude, Neferet, but I still have to tell Amunet about—"

"She's in the garden, my prince. She always is at this time of night." They continued to walk in silence for a moment or two until, "You still haven't answered my question, Prince Atem. What are you going to do about the wedding night?"

Atem sighed, "Do I really have to answer that?"

"Yes."

"I guess I'll…treat it like a wedding night? I don't know, what am I supposed to do?" If he were to be honest, thoughts of the wedding night had been plaguing him all afternoon. He had wondered since he had learned of such things what woman he would bed first, but now he had an actual woman to picture. He'd be lying if he said they were unpleasant thoughts.

Neferet could understand the boy's confusion…and his frustration. She'd had this same conversation with his father. On the one hand, he probably wanted to be respectful of the girl and wait if she wasn't ready…but on the other hand, a part of him probably couldn't wait to jump in bed with her. Neferet knew he found her beautiful, even if many others did not. By now, they had reached the garden and she tugged him in the direction of the fountain.

"Well," she began, "You could always ask her if she's ready for such a thing."

Atem sighed again, "She'd just say she'd be honored, or being my first wife is a privilege or something like that. She's submissive and timid and she hates having others angry or disappointed with her."

Neferet smiled, "You seem to know quite a lot about a simple slave, my prince."

His face became red, "W-well…I—"

Neferet threw back her head and let out a whole-hearted laugh.

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Amunet sighed as she trailed her fingers threw the fountain water. She was honored to be the prince's first wife, she truly was, but she knew that she was scared. What she was scared _of_ she didn't know. Smiling, she thought of how one of her old friends would have reacted if he heard she was getting married.

_"You poor bastard,"_…yes, that seems like something he would have said.

The golden-haired girl was pulled from her thoughts when she heard footsteps come towards her. She looked up to find Neferet and the prince walking leisurely through the garden. Standing up, she dusted off her white robe before bowing before Prince Atem.

Neferet was the first to speak, "We came to tell you that the wedding date has been moved. Now we'll have time to find you a proper dress," she said happily.

Amunet came up from her bow but kept her head lowered, "I see," and it suddenly struck her that she was going to _marry_ the _prince_.

Oh, no.

Oh, nonononooooooo.

She couldn't marry the _prince_. On the outside she remained calm and subdued but on the inside she was having an all out panic attack. Her blood raced, her heart pounded. Her breath came in quick (but still quite) gasps. She couldn't do this. There was no way she could do this. She could barely speak in front of the prince, now she was to become his _wife_? Becoming his wife meant becoming a princess, then she'd be the next queen (if he didn't take a second wife), then she'd bear his child—

Oh, _hell_ no. She most certainly couldn't do _that_. She didn't know the first thing about doing _that_. No, _that_ was for the "grown-ups" and she absolutely was _not_ a grown-up.

It briefly crossed her mind that by then she _would_ be a grown-up, but she quickly pushed the thought out.

This was the _prince_. As the heir to the throne of Egypt, he deserved perfection. And Amunet most certainly was _not_ perfect—_especially_ in _that_ area.

"Well then," Neferet said after a moment of silence, "it's too late for these old bones to be up and about at this time of night. Good night, Prince Atem. Good night, Amunet." And with that, the sly old fox scurried away, her gray hair flowing behind her, and Amunet noticed she moved quickly for someone so "old."

Glancing at the prince, she could almost feel the awkward silence creeping up on them. He never seemed to want to speak in her presence. Whenever she walked into the dining hall to serve food, his conversation with whomever he was speaking would abruptly stop. And sometimes he would just stare at her…much like he was doing now. She realized she was meeting him eye to eye and quickly looked down. She glanced at him through her lashes as he sat down on the rim of the fountain. _Oh, please let him leave soon,_ she silently begged.

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Atem watched as Amunet stood by the fountain, her head bowed and her hands clasped behind her. He decided he might as well speak to her, since she had been here first and he didn't feel like leaving.

"Why don't you sit?" he offered. Her head snapped up at his words—he knew it was the most he'd said to her since he'd named her—then it quickly ducked back down. He looked on as she silently sat beside him. She shifted uncomfortably under his never-ending gaze. After moments of silence he called her attention, "Amunet."

She kept her head bowed but answered him, "Yes, my prince?"

Atem closed his eyes a moment. Unbidden fantasies flashed through his mind. When he was able to speak again his voice came out slightly husky, "Look at me, please." _I want to see your eyes._

If he were to be honest again, her eyes were mesmerizing. At first glance, or from far away, her eyes seemed brown. But if one was close enough, one could see the iris fade to green towards the outside.

But it was dark, and there wasn't much light, and Atem decided he wasn't close enough.

Leaning forward, he grabbed a strand of her hair and began to play with it. _Smooth as silk,_ he thought, _and soft as Egyptian cotton_.

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Amunet suddenly stood, her hair slipping through his fingers. She walked to the edge of the path and leaned against one of the pillars that supported a torch to light the space. With her face covered in darkness, she allowed herself to blush. Now she knew what she was afraid of. She was afraid of _him_.

She could feel the prince come stand behind her. Warmth came off his body in waves against the chilly night, and Amunet fought the urge to turn and bury herself in his arms. She knew if she did that, she might never want to let him go.

She jumped when she felt his breath on her ear. Then she heard him whisper, "What are you afraid of?"

She shivered, but told herself it was from the cold.

She had never been a good liar.

"Me?" she asked, "I'm afraid of everything."

_I'm especially afraid of you. You're everything I'm not: Confident, strong, amazing, beautiful…dominant._

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Atem mulled over her words. _Afraid of everything? That's impossible._

He could feel her flinch when he placed his hands on her shoulders. Pulling her closer he whispered, "Even me?"

She shivered again and answered, "…especially you."

Her answer surprised him, but in a way it didn't. He slid his arms down around her waist. He could feel her heart hammering against his chest. Her breathing became slightly ragged.

"Why?"

"Because I'm afraid I might fall in love with you."

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Amunet paused at her own words. Was that true? Would she fall in love with this man who terrified her?

She pulled herself away from his warm embrace. Now she stood in almost complete shadow, the moon silhouetted her body.

"Why would you fear such a thing?" he asked.

"I am merely a slave. Loving you is not—" While she spoke, Atem had strode forward and twisted her around.

"Not for long. The moment you marry me you will be a princess. Everyone will do everything to please _you_, not the other way around," he quelled the desire to shake some sense into the girl. "Once you are the Queen of Egypt you can do whatever you want. Do you not know how to be selfish once in a while?"

Amunet fought the anger growing inside her. She _did_ know how to be selfish, but life had taught her that the selfishness of a poor person did no good. Keeping the people around her happy had become her main goal early in life. Keeping people happy meant fewer beatings.

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Atem didn't know what came over him. She was always making sure everyone else was happy, making sure she did what _they_ wanted.

His mind went blank and his rage took over. If she was going to say yes to everything, then he would force her to say no.

Tightening his grip on her arm, he roughly backed her up against the pillar. Pressing himself against her, he growled into her ear, "Say 'no' if you want to," before he covered her lips with his. He slid his hands down her arms to her wrists, then quickly pinned them on either side of her head. She wasn't enjoying this by any means, he could tell, but damn it! she wasn't fighting him either!

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Amunet cringed when she felt the prince's grip tighten around her wrists even more. He was angry, but at what? He was taking it out on her, but why? He was kissing her, but it didn't seem to be helping. And the way he was kissing her _hurt_…like he was trying to crush her lips.

She knew she shouldn't be enjoying it, she really shouldn't. But somewhere, in the dark depths of her consciousness, she knew she was enjoying it. And that scared her all the more.

The more rational part of her brain screamed at her to fight. She didn't know how to, but fight she did. He finally pulled back when she began biting his lip. Both of them were gasping for air. The prince tilted his head back, taking in a deep breath. After a moment of looking at the stars, he glanced back down.

Amunet was trembling. The feelings that had coursed through her body in that moment had terrified her. She never wanted to feel them ever again.

"Are you still afraid of me?"

"Of course! How could I not be after you pull a stunt like that?" Even when angry, her voice was still barely above a whisper. "…my prince," she added as an after-thought, in case he was angry.

She felt his breath fan across her face as he sighed—it smelled of mint—and waited to see what punishment he would give her for refusing him. Afraid to meet his gaze, she stared at her bare feet and tried to concentrate on the feel of the cool earth beneath them.

Atem placed one finger under her chin and his thumb on her cheek. He lifted her head up so he could see her eyes—the one thing that had started this whole mess. "You think I'm going to punish you?"

Amunet tried to pull back but she was caught with his hand cupping her chin and the pillar behind her back. She nodded as best as she could while he held her head in place.

He began to stroke her bottom lip with his thumb as he thought of a fitting punishment, "Alright then," he said, before he once again covered her lips with his own.

But this time it was different. The kiss wasn't rough and demanding and forceful as the last one had been. This kiss was gentle and soft and lulled her own lips into a rhythm that followed his. She had no idea what she was doing, but he seemed to and so she followed his lead.

Her hands played with the fabric of her dress, since she didn't know what to do with them. She felt him smile into the kiss before he took her hands and wrapped them around his neck. They immediately entangled themselves in his spikey mess of hair. His one hand went to tangle itself in her own hair, while the other wound around her waist to pull her away from the support of the pillar.

She whimpered slightly as she lost her main support and realized that she now had to lean against him or collapse (seeing as her legs had stopped working some time ago).

The night breeze swirled around them, lifting his cape to form an almost-cacoon and shield them from the rest of the world.

Then Amunet's nose felt funny.

It felt really funny.

Almost like she was about to—

She pushed herself away from Atem as quickly as possible and—"Achoo!"

Atem looked a bit startled for a moment until he started to smile. Then he grinned. Then he started to chuckle. And then that chuckled became a full-blown laugh.

Amunet was mortified. "Wh-what's so funny, my prince?"

His laughing died down to a mere chuckle again as he said, "You. You looked so cute when you sneezed. And then you looked so embarrassed!" He continued with his light-hearted laughing.

"W-well I'm glad you got a good laugh at m-my expense."

He cupped his hand around her cheek, "Oh, Amunet. I wasn't laughing at you. The moment was just so perfect…and then you sneezed—" he returned to stifling his laughter.

"So you _are_ laughing at me."

"No," he said, "goodness, you look like you're about to cry. I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at the fact that it ended with a _sneeze_ of all things."

Amunet turned her face away, trying to hide her pout. Those feelings had come back during that second kiss, even if the experience was completely different from the first.

Atem smiled, perfectly content, "Come on. I'll walk you to your room."

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The wedding day came only four days later. Within those four days, Atem had gone to see Amunet every chance he could.

Understanding the situation _completely_, the older women let him drag her off on walks or horse rides and would divide Amunet's tasks among themselves.

On the day of the wedding, it seemed as though all of Egypt came to greet their next queen. The men commented on her exotic golden hair and the women fawned over what the heir would look like. Little girls giggled whenever the prince reached for her hand, and little boys blushed whenever the new princess graced them with a smile.

The holders of the Millenium Items each came and congradulated the couple personally.

Seto brought along a girl he had met some time ago, with silver hair and eyes as blue as the sea. He introduced the girl as Kisara and, when standing next to Amunet, the contrast between them created a beautiful affect.

Mana dragged Mahaado along, asking him when he was going to get married. He replied that it was none of her concern and looked everywhere except beside him. Mana, Atem, and Amunet inwardly smiled as they noticed just _who_ was standing beside him.

Isis watched Mahaado longingly as he walked off. She quickly gave her congradulations to the couple before her eyes trailed after him again. Mana popped up, telling the woman to go get a few drinks in him so that he might loosen up enough to dance. Isis blushed as she walked away.

Shimon and Akunadin came escorting Neferet. Shimon said a few choice words about having fun on the wedding night and Neferet said a few choice words about his personality. She dragged him away by the ear, scolding him all the way. Akunadin quickly apologized before hurrying after the odd (almost) couple.

Shada and Karim. They came. They spoke. They went. It was always fun to watch Neferet scold someone twice their age, and Shada and Karim were always the first to gather to watch.

The pharaoh pulled his brother off to the side for a moment, "I think this went rather well."

"I never would have thought Atem would marry so young," replied Akunadin.

"Well," the pharaoh smiled, "let's see what else Atem's little dancer can make him do."

**Finally! Another chappie done! This one seems a bit longer than the last one ^.^**

**Maybe I should stick to one-shots u.u; Tell me whatcha think!**

**(Oooh! And let's have a contest to see who can guess who Amunet's old friend is! Is it an OC or a canon character? It's time to guess! …epic parody fail XD)**


	4. Chapter 4

Mana scurried across the throne room after the banquet, looking for Atem and Amunet. In her hands, she clutched a small bag of herbs with a note tied to the drawstring. Neferet had given her specific orders to give it to Atem before he and his new wife retired for the night. The old woman was hale, but with the warm summer night and a belly full of food and wine, she'd been one of the first to leave and go to bed. Mana had happily agreed to deliver the small sack to her childhood friend, though what was in the bag she did not know-it hadn't crossed her mind to ask.

So now she rushed to catch up with the prince and his bride before they disappeared completely for the night.

Spotting them by the throne, she called out, "Atem! Amunet! Doooooon't move, I have something from Neferet!" and raced across the room.

Standing beside his son, Akunamonon could hear him mutter under his breath, "Whatever it is, it can't be good."

Panting, Mana skidded to a halt, almost colliding with Atem, who held her steady so she wouldn't fall. "This...for you..." she said through gasps for air. She held up the small bag and placed it in Amunet's outstretched hands. Shaping her lips into an O, she blew out a long stream of air, "I need to get going before Master comes looking for me," she winked, "Isis actually got him to drink a little wine. Who knows what crazy things I'm missing!" And then she was gone, leaving Atem, Amunet, and the pharaoh in the throne room alone. All the other nobles and court officials had left for the night, having said their goodbyes.

Atem and Amunet didn't stay long, either. Since the wedding had been planned so quickly, Amunet was to stay in a spare room in the pharaoh's palace until she was moved to Atem's personal quarters. She had no objection to this, as it meant she had at least one day to come to terms with the fact that she was now a princess of Egypt-and that was certainly a lot to take in. Atem, on the other hand...

He would not rush her, nor would he force her into something she wasn't ready for. She was already afraid of him, being the timid little thing she was, and he did not want to make matters worse. He would wait. Until they were both adults and he was the new pharaoh, if he had to. _I _will_ wait_, he told himself.

All his logic and reasoning, however, did nothing to quell his hormones.

Moments like this made him wish he wasn't quite as fond of her as he was. Maybe, if he liked her less, or she was some snobbish, rude, spoiled foreign princess, he could bring himself to not care about her desires. _Maybe_. But then again, his father wouldn't have trusted him with a wife at all had he been able to do that. To put others' needs above his own. It was a moral and unwritten law Akunamonon had personally ingrained into his son. Akunadin called him soft. Shimon called him a wise ruler.

But tonight, the only person's whose opinion mattered to Atem was Amunet's.

Amunet grew more and more anxious as they walked. She wondered what would happen that night. Would things be pleasant? Painful? What if she could not fulfill her duties as a wife? What if she could not please her husband? What if nothing happened at all? For all she knew, he had already deemed her a waste of time and effort, and would seek out a mistress whenever he was ready. If Amunet had voiced her thoughts to Mana, she would have been told countless times of how Atem would never do that. But she had not, and she did not know him well enough to make such a judgement herself.

After what seemed like an eternity, the young couple reached the room Amunet would be staying in that night.

"Well..." she began, "I guess th-this is good night." Damn. She hadn't meant to stutter. It was bad enough he knew how nervous she got around him. No need for him to be reminded of it every time she spoke.

He said nothing, and she took this as a dismissal into the room. As she reached out her hand to push back the curtain, warm and slender fingers lightly grabbed a hold of her wrist. She followed the hand up an arm, over a shoulder, and before she could finish the neck, Atem was gently guiding her away from the room.

"Where," -she paused when she felt a burning in her stomach. Fear?- "are we going, Prince?"

"Atem," he replied.

"...?"

"If you refuse to call me by name throughout our marriage, then, just for tonight, call me 'Atem'," he said.

"A-all right." It wasn't fear, it was excitement.

Years of being the observer had left Amunet unprepared for this night. She had never been a part of those groups of girls, giggling when they described the men they wanted to give themselves to. Her mother had never been the type of woman to give 'the talk.' Amunet had been fine with this, and the life she lived. It had always been one less thing to worry about. No need to look for a husband, if you were your own parents' slave.

However, life never turns out the way you expect it to. Here she was, on her wedding night, being led by her husband to Isis knows where. And she was..._excited._ She'd be lying if she said she's never thought about it, never wondered. No matter how sheltered, it's impossible for a young woman her age to not-at the very least-_hear_ about sex. Neferet had done her best to teach Amunet what she would need to know, but once she'd gotten the basic concept she could barely handle anything else.

Breaking out of her thoughts, Amunet realized they were in Atem's quarter of the palace. Her knees wobbled a bit, causing her to stumble. Atem wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her. When this did nothing to help her stability, he swept an arm under her legs.

_Bridal style, how ironic_, he thought. It took all of his willpower to keep a steady pace. He wanted nothing more than to run the rest of the way to his room. Atem was certain that she knew where he was taking her by now, but, even if they did nothing, he wanted her by his side that first night.

They passed by the garden where he had first kissed her. _His garden_, Amunet realized. She was relieved that a place so familiar would be so close by.

He placed her on her feet outside his curtain-door, allowing her to enter first. Torches burned in all for corners of the room. In the dim light she could just make out scenes from the Nile painted along the walls. A desk for writing was covered in papyrus and small pots of ink. Brushes lay spread in a disorganized array. A chest lay at the foot of the bed-no doubt holding clothes and jewelry. The bed she merely glanced at. She had always found things easier to bear if she didn't completely acknowledge their existence. Perhaps she would wake up and this would all be a dream. She had entered her room and fallen asleep.

But Atem's hands resting on her shoulders were too warm. His breath on her ear was too soft.

Amunet's heart pounded and her mouth went dry. She went from barely breathing to drawing in deep gasps. The room shook slightly and she realized she was trembling. He stripped her of all her jewelry, and then himself. Soon, she only wore her white linen dress, and he wore only his kilt. Even the blue sash and gold belt he often wore to bed were missing. Amunet glanced down at her bare feet. When in the name of Osiris had he taken off her sandals?

Atem led her over to the bed, turning her around and pushing lightly on her shoulders to make her sit. He knelt in front of her, taking her hands into his own. First, he kissed each fingertip. Then he kissed her palms. He sucked gently at the point on her wrist where he could feel her pulse through her skin. He moved on when it was racing to his liking, planting light, airy kisses up her arm.

His young bride remained frozen and tense as he kissed across her collar bone, then back to the base of her neck. Looking up from his position in front of her, he cradled the back of her head in one hand and placed the other in the small of her back. He went back to kissing her, up and over her chin, hovering over her lips. At some point her eyes had closed and her breath came in small, expectant pants.

"If you do not want this," he whispered, "say so now. Because, once I start, I will not be able to bring myself to stop."

He watched as her eyes opened just enough to look at him. They appeared fevered and glazed. Her only answer was to cup his face between her shaking hands and lightly press her lips against his. Atem needed no other encouragement.

He broke away only to lean her back and climb on top of her. With one leg bent at the knee on the bed and the other outretched to keep him balanced, he knew this would not be comfortable for either of them. He quickly scooped her up, without breaking the kiss, so he could place her head on the pillows and her feet at the foot of the bed.

Amunet didn't know what to expect. A thought suddenly crossed her mind. What was in that bag Mana had given them? Lightly cursing her own curiosity, she pushed Atem away long enough to crawl out from under him. She knew she would not be able to focus on her husband until she found out what was in that bag.

She could almost feel the pout on his face as she walked over to where he'd dropped it on the floor. Pulling off the note, she quickly read it by a torch and nearly let the thing fall from her fingers.

The dim light in the room wasn't much, but Amunet's skin was pale enough that Atem could see the blush growing on her face as she read the note. Now _he_ had to read it.

Amunet didn't even move when he plucked the note from her frozen hands. When he read what was written, he understood why.

_My Dear Prince,_

_It is vital that you have this bag of herbs with you when you take little Amunet to bed for the first time. Over the years, I've noticed that certain plants help with certain...things. Such as fertility and..."growth." Remember, it is just as important for her to enjoy this. Simply swallow a pinch of the herbs-make sure she gets some, too-and have at it._

_Your Loyal Servant,_

_Neferet_

Amunet stared at him, mortified, as a few chuckles escaped.

She could only watch as he pulled on the drawstring, reached in and pulled out a small amount of the "helpful" herbs Neferet had given them. She could only watch as he tilted his head back, rubbing his fingers together so the small grains and leaves fell into his open mouth. And she could only watch as he pulled out more and, with a small smirk, placed the herbs in her gaping mouth. There was no need to actually swallow. The plants had been ground into a fine enough powder that it dissolved in her mouth.

Atem's amusement grew as her face became a deeper shade of red. He picked her up once again and carried her over to the bed. Her hands were clutching the front of her dress as he laid her down. She was even more tense than before. Atem couldn't resist.

"Hmm," he looked down towards his legs, "I do believe it's working."

And Amunet promptly passed out.

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Amunet woke to the feel of fingers running through her hair. The silence surrounding her told her it was still late at night. No servants were rushing around, preparing for the day. She could sense something large and warm lying across from her, but she was too content to open her eyes. Something small and soft and warm-a pair of lips-pressed against her forehead. She clutched tighter at the blankets wrapped around her. The cotton felt so wonderful against her skin-

Her _bare_ skin.

She was naked.

Atem once again watched in amusement as her eyes flew open and she shot out of bed. Her frantic movements caused her to fall over the side, and he reached for her to help her up, but she quickly stood in a flurry of blankets and blonde hair.

And then she realized: she wasn't the only one without clothes. A silent scream escaped her as her eyes glued onto the prince's naked form. He propped his head up on one hand as he watched her, just as the lion watches a juicy piece of meat he already knows will be his. Amunet dared not look any lower than his face, though she desperately wanted to look away from that conceited smirk.

Horror spread across her features. Not because they were both naked. Not because she had no idea what happened after she had fainted. Not because he was watching her with amusement as she made a fool of herself. Not because he lifted his hand and beckoned her closer. Not because her body did the opposite of what it wanted and _obeyed_ his command. Amunet was full of horror because she knew what was coming.

Even if he had taken his fill while she was passed out-though she doubted his integrity would allow him to do something so dishonorable-it seemed he had made it his personal mission to make sure she enjoyed it as well, whether she wanted to or not.

She didn't look at him as she laid back down beside him. He wrapped an arm around what he assumed was her waist. Still propped up on one arm, Atem looked down at his reluctant wife with a faint smile. She wasn't even blinking.

He began to toy with the edge of the blankets, tugging and pulling and teasing her into thinking he might rip them off at any moment.

"It must be burning up in that little cacoon of yours," he said. His voice was low and huskier than usual. Amunet tried her best not to shiver.

"I-I'm fine," she replied.

He saw it anyway, "On the contrary. I think you look quite cold. And you're even shivering." He slowly began to peel away the layers of blankets that kept her hidden. "Why don't you allow me to warm you, my dear wife?"

The prince pulled away the last of the blankets and Amunet did her best to cover herself. He grabbed her wrists and pulled them away, pinning them on either side of her head as he shifted his body over hers.

"That's no way to get warm," he murmured against her lips.

Amunet squirmed a little when he nipped her ear. She squirmed more as he nipped and licked his way down her neck and chest to her breasts. He moved her hands so they were pinned above her head, using one hand to rub small, soft circles on one while his tongue played with the other. This made her squirm the most. Atem decided he liked making her squirm.

Letting go of her wrists, he hooked his other hand under her leg and wrapped it around his own waist. She gasped as he stroked the sensitive flesh of her thigh, from her knee to her bottom. After he felt he had paid a sufficient amount of attention ot her breasts, he again began his descent of licking and nipping towards her hips, occasionally stroking her side with the hand not occupied with her thigh.

She brought down her arms to cover her chest. Her hands clutched at empty air. She felt as though she had no control of her body as his lips moved lower and lower.

He hooked her other leg over his shoulder, sucking on the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. He felt the shiver wrack her body as he moved closer to her-

Atem awoke with a start. Sweat covered his body and his breath came in gasps. Beside him, Amunet slept peacefully on. He still wore his kilt and she still wore her linen dress. It...had all been a dream...

_DAMN IT!_

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**So...my first attempt at an (almost) lemon. I was going to try actually writing one, but I chickened out at the last minute and made it all a dream. Ain't I a stinker?**

**Atem: I...**_**hate**_** you.**


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